Imperfections make us real

Monday morning was a bad one for me. It was a comedy of errors unfolding around me, and the further it unfurled, the more inadequate I felt.

I woke up with plenty of time to get dressed, have a cup of coffee and watch a little Good Morning America. I knew I had plenty of time to leave home, run the errands I needed to, and make it to a 9 am work appointment. Easy peasy.

As I was getting dressed, though, I was looking around my messy bathroom mentally tallying all of the things I have wanted to do around my home to get it in order, but I have failed to do any of them yet. One of the things I have heard on the Christian talk radio station I listen to was a woman who said God wants us to have a neat, clean, orderly home so our home can be our sanctuary -- so we don't have to feel stressed out about it when we're home, but rather we can sit back at peace. I also have had the conviction that my outward habits reflect what is inside me. I have been feeling SO at peace this year, and things seem to be "falling together" so well -- though I know it has nothing to do with falling together but rather God's careful placement.

Well, as I brushed my teeth, washed my face, etc., I kept thinking of all I had to do and want to do, but have not yet done. Of course that ugly self dialog started in my head -- "You're so lazy. There is no reason for you to not get these things done. What is your problem?? If you want to serve the Lord, you have to have a home, car, office, etc., that people can come into at any time and feel peace. THIS is not peaceful at all." It just went on and on until I just could only sigh, decide I would try to do better, and carry on with my day.

Sure enough, I got away from my home with plenty of time to spare. I wouldn't have to rush around and worry, etc. I had to get gas (I was on E -- ACK!) and pick up some Krazy Glue for a project I had to complete and be ready to give to someone at 9. When I pulled up to my favorite gas station/7-11 to do both in one stop, the pumps were full. No problem, I thought. I'll just pull around to the other side of the station. As I turned round the back of the store, there was a HUGE pick-up truck with an EVEN MORE HUGE horse trailer on it, sitting at the pumps, waiting for the next open one. And because his vehicle and trailer combined were so large, I could neither pass them in the parking lot nor go out of the parking lot by him and back in another way. Well, I had two choices: sit there and wait for who knows how long, or back up and go out an alternate exit.

I checked my blind spots TWICE, put it in reverse, looked back and started very slowly backing up. CRUUUUNCH. All I could do was whimper, whip my head around to make sure there really was no one behind me and my eyes weren't deceiving me, then put it in drive and hope for the best. As I pulled up -- SCRAAAAPE -- I saw it...a low concrete post, painted white. This was NOT going to be good for the fender of my fire red Mustang. Finally I get myself out of this pickle and safely pulled up to a pump waaay out in the boonies in the parking lot. I got out of my car and slowly circled. Another whimper -- my once pristine lil red car now has a huge white paint streak on the passenger back fender, with a little dent just to add to the effect.

Well, to add to the joy I was feeling at that moment, I realized my gas tank is on the OPPOSITE side of the car. Ugh!! I stomped around the car, my anger at the huge horse trailer guy turning into anger at myself very quickly -- anger because I was allowing someone's thoughtlessness to ruin my morning. Back up the car and pull around to another pump -- yeah, you guessed it, the one right NEXT to the horse trailer guy. I can't even describe how hard I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying, "YOU, sir, should have PLANNED AHEAD and fueled your truck LAST NIGHT BEFORE you hooked that HUGE trailer to it!"

I gassed up my car, ran in for Krazy Glue, then back out (and, yes, horse trailer guy was STILL there, so again I had to bite my already bruised tongue). I pulled away from the pump and to the side of the parking lot, out of the way of all entrances, exits, and traffic flow areas (see, horse trailer guy. THIS is how you sit in a parking lot and wait.) I got my little project put together, then I headed off to my 9 am meeting. Fortunately I was still early enough I could sit in my car and listen to a little preaching. It worked. I calmed down and "got happy" again. Phew.

The building I had to go into was an old, rickety looking building from the outside (101 S. Jennings St. if you're ever in Fort Worth), but it's a historic building -- and inside it is GORGEOUS. Now obviously it's not at all on the same plane with all the new construction on 7th Street, but it was beautiful and weathered and worn. All I could do was wonder what had that building been so many years ago and who had walked its halls.

The room for my appointment was on the 3rd floor, opposite end of the hall from the elevator. I had to stand out in the hall and wait on someone. Of course they had a big ficus tree plant thing in the corner. Now, I'm not one who can usually tell on sight if a plant is fake or real, if it's a good fake plant. Usually I have to touch the leaves or stick my finger in the soil to figure it out.

As I looked at this tree, though, I noticed first of all that some of its branches were missing leaves. There on the end of the branches were little bare twigs, naked and exposed. Then I began to notice other imperfections -- some of the leaves had yellow spots, and the tree had had to be tied up to keep its top-heavy frame from falling over.

It was only through its imperfections, proudly on display for all of the world to see and not hidden or tucked away in shame, that I knew that plant was the real deal. Had the tree looked perfect to the naked eye, even if I studied it closely, I might have never known it was a living, breathing thing. Those flaws let me know it was a real, true, living, beautiful plant.

I realized it's the same for me. How can I be a witness for the Lord if my life appears absolutely perfect -- even if it isn't. If I hide away the flaws and not let other people know, "Hey I struggle all of the time. Life isn't simple for me at all. But it's God's grace that carries me through those rough times and helps me live a life that is happy and blessed and joyful, even if my bathroom is dusty and my bedroom floor is covered in clothes and I have yellow spots on my leaves and need to be given some extra support to keep from falling over." Being saved, receiving God's grace, knowing that peace does not mean life is suddenly perfect. And if you are saved and life continues to throw hurdles in your path, that doesn't mean you're not "right" with the Lord.

Those imperfections are a testimony to others -- they speak to the fact that none of us, no not one, are perfect. Just forgiven.